Disconnected
by IGuessMyNameIsKai
Summary: "When I was a toddler I was taken to the doctor and after a few... tests or- or something, they told my mom that I had a strange disconnection to reality, and that I couldn't feel emotions... They were going to put me in a psych ward if the disconnected parts of my brain didn't heal... Well, there was nothing wrong physically, but, mentally..." First story on FF.
1. WARNINGS

This story contains very strange and illegitimate sounding illnesses, swearing, an OC everyone will love-hate because he's hilarious, and sommore wierd stuff. That's not a spelling error. Don't judge me.

I do not own ffmah or fmaahhhbuh...


	2. Chapter One

This is my first story on Fanfiction. I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist and this story is AU.

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"When I was a toddler I was taken to the doctor and after a few... tests or-- or something, they told my mom that I had a strange disconnection to reality, and that I couldn't feel emotions... They were going to put me in a psych ward if the disconnected parts of my brain didn't heal... Well, there was nothing wrong physically, but, mentally..." Everyone looks at him, they're nervous, he knows, for whatever he may say next. "And after me and Alphonse committed to Human Transmutation I felt _different_. I found I could feel emotions for the first time in my life and after we got our bodies back they just left... Dissapeard. And I feel like I should be angry or sad or upset but I'm not, because I can't feel anything." He doesn't know what to expect as a reply so he sighs and continues. "When Alphonse lost his body I felt so guilty, but at the same time I never wanted it to end because I could feel everything that was happening-- completely, I didn't just see it all and move on, I actually felt it. I didn't know what to think..." He looks down again. "The doctor who told my mom about the disassociation came to check up on me-- it'd been fourteen years, etcetera-- and he decided that I would be going to the psych ward."

Alphonse practically growls next to him. "But there's nothing wrong with you, brother!"

Hawkeye is the first to break out from the shock, and even then she stumbles on her words. "H-how long would you be there for?" She asks quietly.

He shrugs and looks up. "If the doctor had his way then I'd be there for the rest of my life, regardless of wether I _healed_ or not." He spits out the word with obvious distaste.

Alphonse runs a hand through his hair. "W-what do we do?" She's not sure, but Riza thinks she sees tears in the corner of his eyes. Is he frustrated or scared? She knows that she's frustrated herself, but she's not sure about everyone else. Maes' lips are pressed in a thin line and his eyes are frowning. Fuery is looking questioningly at Alphonse with wide eyes. Breda's looking down at his fists, which are placed on his lap, and Havoc dropped his cigarette. Roy looks ready to murder right now, and he's already made a mess of his hair.

No one says anything, and the clock strikes nine. "I've only got until tomorrow. Then the doctor's gonna come and take me away..."


	3. Chapter Two

Thanks for all the good comments and constructive criticism! Though I didn't really explain it, I thought that how shock can effect people could have triggered the 'problem' Edward had to disappear, and the weight he had on his mind drove his emotions, and when Alphonse gained his body back that 'weight' left, and that reversed said effects. Also, I never said he couldn't feel sympathy and empathy, because they are triggered by different things. (ex: Literally feeling someone elses pain is showing that the part of your brain that interprets pain is showing someone else being hurt as you being hurt.) I'm gonna stop now...

A lot of swearing from now on... Maybe... Whenever a certain character is involved anyway...

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The rest of the day seemed to roll by slowly, but before he knew it, the next day came. February fifteenth, the day he'd be taken the first time by said doctor and 'examined,' had left a week earlier, and now it was the Twenty-Third of the same month. He was sweating and shaking, which was obvious to his friends in the office room he currently habited. The entire room was thick with a tension it had never seen-- Mustang was trying to do _paperwork_ to keep himself occupied, Havoc was scowling and had ditched the cigarette, and Breda was currently trying to steal one out of Havoc's pocket. And failing, but that's besides the point. Hawkeye had placed her prized posession inside of a box in her desk drawer, and was near-slouching and nervously looking about the room, and Alphonse growled at every little shift in sound or any movement anyone or anything made. Which was a lot of sound and movement.

And there he was, in the middle of the room (he felt like it anyway, even if he was sat next to Alphonse, who was next to a window) shaking and sweating like a child. He actually didn't feel much different now.

How the heck was he already used to this? Being emotionless sucked. It'd only been enough time for Alphonse to be strong enough to walk, as well!

 _"Brother?"_ Alphonse's voice sounded watery and murky. Like there was something blocking his hearing. _"Are you okay?_ _Brother!"_

 _Alphonse picked up another thick book and placed it on the cramped wooden table. "Are you sure we'll be okay, brother? I don't think it'll work." That's stupid._

 _"What'd you mean, Al, doubting me? We're obviously gonna do it! I have all the chemicals, see! There's the water, over there's the iron and phosphorus, and everything else is on the table, too! We can't fail! There's no way!" And they pressed their hands on the circle._ _He_ _remembered screaming, and an uncomfortable thrum settling in his chest._

 _"Alphonse!"_

 _Worry. Fear. Anger. Sickening pride. Stupid. Stupid. **Stupid child.** It said. **You should never have crossed my path. Go back to your pitiful existance, now, Human.** And then everything stopped-- time froze--_

 _What can I do--_

 _\--Alphonse, oh god,_

 _\--where is my little brother!?_

 _Worry. Fear. Anger. **Where is my little brother?** It mocked. Then the gates shut and everything stopped._

 ** _Don't you dare come back, you discusting Impersonator._**

 _Rewind._

"Brother?" Alphonse said as the same familiar emptiness etched into his brain.

 _Impersonator? I don't remember Truth saying that... What does it mean?_

He nodded and his blurred vision focused on his brother. "Mmhmm."

"Shhh. Just a minute." Alphonse turned aroundand walked back out of the presumably small room he was in.

"I TOLD YOU NO!" Clearly Alphonse's voice shouted.

"THAT- THAT BOY IS MENTALLY UNSTABLE!"

"OH FUCK OFF, YOU CRACKPOT DOCTOR."

A sickening _c_ _rack_ was heard. What was that?

"OW!" A pause. Quieter. "I am _trying_ to help you, but you don't seem to be cooperating." A growl.

"If there's something wrong with my brother _, sir."_ The word was used mockingly. "Then tell me exactly whats wrong, and then fuck off, because I don't give a _shit."_ Alphonse was angry.

(Brother was angry, and he couldn't be. _Lucky.)_

(He wished that was sarcasm.)

(He really did.)

"Just because he can't feel fucking emotions doesn't mean he'll go ahead and kill someone just for the sake of it, you dumb fuck!" _Brother's swearing a lot._ He giggled.

"But it doesn't mean he won't!" This _doctor_ was fucking stupid!

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I love the doctor XOX Also, nothing I write is beta read, I just spell check it and then rewrite it with all the key parts of the chapter. So this one isn't the original chapter. Ah well.


	4. Chapter Three

Hello again! I've decided that I'm going to update at least every week if I can. And if not then I'll make multiple updates in one week. I'm going to end up writing a lot this week cause I have nothing to do...

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After Alphonse had finished screaming, the doctor ended up leaving with anger evident in unusually bright brown eyes. Something was off about him.

"So, how'd ya feel?" Havoc asked him, puffing his cigar the other way. He got a glare in reply. "Oh. Right. Well, what are you going to do now, anyway? He looks too pissed not to proclaim all-out war on you and Al."

Ed shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did, and I wouldn't care either."

"Does this no-emotions thing mean that you just won't give a shit about anything?" Havoc puffed his cigar again and yawned. "So tired..."

Edward ignored his question and asked one of his own. "We're you up all last night? You look like a panda."

Jean shook his head and said, with no amount of sarcasm "That's a big ego stroke, I'll look like a panda everyday from now on."

Ed was tired, too, actually. "Do I look like a panda?"

"No."

"Damn."

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Scowling, he made his was home and pulled off his hat and obnoxious coat.

"Shame.. He would've furthered my research quicker than the others..."

He sloppily threw his coat onto a rack and growled.

"If I had him he might as well've completed my research _for_ me."

"Maybe a little... persuasion... would work..."

He slowly made his way down the basement, a freshly-poured dog bowl of water in one hand, a small box in the other.

"No... no more..." A chilling voice protested.

He pushed the bowl, which he'd placed on the floor earlier, towards the low tones' direction.

"I'm sorry." He said, not sounding sorry at all. He opened the box and pulled out a needle. "But without the serum you'd be lying here dead." He grinned and brought the needle up.

"No... don't..." The voice choked. "...Stay away..!"

He stabbed.

A scream.

"Oopsie." He smiled. "I didn't get it right. Guess that means I have to do it again."

More screams. More tools-- definitely not all needles.

"Oh! I'm so excited for my next victim... shame you were a failure." He placed his thumb on his lip and licked it clean of blood. "Hn..." He smiled again. "Maybe I should go fishing..."

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I think this was a bit morbid... and short... but I wanted to kinda show the doctor not being a jerk... even if he's a psychopath... Am I the only one who thinks my evil doctor acts completely different in front of multiple people to when practically alone? In my head last chapter's doctor and this chapter's doctor were almost different people... IMBRAINSTORMINGLEAVEMEALONEBYE!


	5. Chapter Four

A slowly drawn array was now dyed into the stone-- it couldn't simply be washed away by water like his last experiment had enforced multiple times-- and it was more efficient. That killed two birds with one stone. His eyes twinkled. "Doctor Eminaī!" A voice called. He gave no reply and the voice continued to speak. "There's a package here-- what's in it?" Ah. That's who it was. His, honestly quite clueless, apprentice, Mark.

"Wait a second, and don't open it!" He shouted after a small pause. A second sentance died on his lips.

That stupid _fucking_ failure wouldn't shut its' mouth.

"Who cares if you're starving!? Your serum keeps you healthy--"

"--and in pain." The Impersonator interrupted him cheekily. Why did the useless creature defy him like this? It was doing the creature no good, because when he was angry he'd.. miss.. the vein more frequently.

That wasn't saying that he was _torturing_ his dear test subject. No, no. Of course not.

He'd never hurt his precious lab rat.

Never in a million years.

Ahem. He quickly ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and snatched the package out of his apprentice's hand with an almost sarcastic "Thank you." Mark rolled his eyes and returned the gesture. After a pause, he unfolded his arms and tried to look into the larger-than-normal basement.

"Seriously, Eminaī, what is down there?" A frown hid a curious expression before it flittered onto Mark's face, but his blue eyes didn't hide anything.

A grin. "Trade secret." Curly blonde hair bounced as Mark pouted. "Just go back to studying already!" He snapped, grin no longer present.

"Sheesh. Okay." Mark slowly dissapeared as he walked down the hallway.

As he walked back downstairs he slowly unwrapped the foil-like paper and grinned.

"Just what I need."

The no-longer sealed box was closed, hiding its' contents.

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Alphonse was a big ball of nerves.

"HOW THE HELL DID EDWARD BREAK HIS AUTOMAIL!?"

Why was he using this excuse to make Winry come over to Central, again?

It was a bad idea.

A really, really bad idea.

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 **So I wrote this, and then I thought _Why the hell is the doctor so wierd?_ and now I'm sat next to a god annoying moth trying to write more. So I gave up and started writing a fifth chapter. Amd opened the window. And now I'm going to have a long nap. Bai!!** ** _ZZZZZZZZZZZZ_**


	6. Chapter Five

"RIGHT! EDWARD HOW THE HELL DID YOU BREAK YOUR AUTOMAIL!?" Ouch.

"Why the _hell_ did you hit me with that wrench?"

Wait a minute.

Edward's leg looks perfectly fine from what she can see.

"Alphonse?" He nervously looks up at her.

"Yes, Winry?"

"Did you lie to me about Ed's automail?"

"ALPHONSE ELRIC! YOU CAN BE JUST AS BAD AS YOUR THICKHEADED OLDER BROTHER SOMETIMES!"

Half an hour later, Winry, Edward and Alphonse are all sat down and had _politely_ talked about Edward's situation.

"Oh. So I guess I should apologise for hitting you two with my wrench then, huh?" The two didn't say anything. "Well, what have you decided to do. You're probably just paranoid, a _doctor_ of all people would not go after you for chasing him out of Colonel Mustang's office."

For a split second, Alphonse think's she's right and that they are being paranoid, but then his rational brain returns.

"Better safe than sorry, Winry. You never know what could happen."

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Alphonse and Edward walked to the Colonel's office in a not-so-peaceful silence filled with unheard conversation. As it was the autumn leaves were damp on the floor, and they stuck to their shoes. The humidity was almost suffocating.

Just what the hell was going on? The doctor, Doctor Emi-whosit, had made a silent threat of returning when he left, but, despite their friend's not-so-soft words, they were still worried about it.

He just seemed to rub off wrong.

And there was the fact that they couldn't get his wierd as hell appearance out of their heads. He looked like a plague doctor without the bird-mask-thingy. Ans his hair colour was wierd as hell. Was it grey or pale green or pale blue or all three? He didn't look that old, so it obviously wasn't naturally grey (and he was pretty sure blue and green weren't natural hair colours.)

"Colonel Mustang!" Alphonse called out.

"I'm in for a promotion, remember, better get used to calling me Major General Mustang."

"Oh, shut it, you pronoid* bastard!" The self-proclaimed Major General slumped lazily.

"Just sit down, already." He snapped.

"What's wrong, sir?"

"I might have done some spying on said doctor, and I heard some wierd things."

"Eh?"

"He's keeping a person in his basement. I think. Whatever it was that spoke clearly isn't there of free will, anyway, it was shouting profanities far beyond even your vocabulary, Fullmetal."

"Why do you always turn serious conversations into teasing me?"

"Your reaction is funny. Makes the room less tense."

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 **So, bad chapter. I have plans for the next two but there was just a big gaping hole in place of this chapter and I planned on introducing Winry last chapter but... la la laaaaaa. I know that the chapters are really, really short but I can only really write 1500 words at best in a chapter before I lose interest myself, and I'm more interested in writing more chapters than words, so that's why I published the other story on my account. (Shameless advertising.) Right now I'm not too far into the chapter and this makes up half of it. That's like 200 words in the actual story.**

Pronoia is the oposite of paranoia, where you think everyone is plotting your success.


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